


Nightmares

by DorkMagician



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17948573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorkMagician/pseuds/DorkMagician
Summary: The ceremonial duel has ended in a tie and Atem has one year before the ceremony must be performed again. Life goes on as normal until the year is nearing its end. Atem's heart grows heavy, knowing he might not have the time left he needs to see certain things through. Meanwhile, Seto Kaiba has been having nightmares for weeks, waking up crying and shouting. Concerned, Mokuba seeks the help of Atem and his mystic puzzle against his brother's wishes. Atem agrees to lend Kaiba the use of his puzzle to enter his soul room and banish the source of the nightmares. He is unprepared for what he finds within.





	Nightmares

“You want to _borrow_ Yami?”

Mokuba shifted awkwardly across the table, trying not to look Yugi in the eye. The mug of hot chocolate steamed in front of him, untouched. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that—like the puzzle’s a toy or anything. I just thought he might be able to help me with something.”

Atem projected over Yugi’s shoulder, peering down at Mokuba’s lowered head. “He looks distressed. Perhaps something is truly wrong for him to seek our help.”

“That may be so, but I don’t like the way he asked,” Yugi protested. “If he wanted your help, he should’ve asked to speak with you, not me. And to ask to borrow a person isn’t right.”

“Then let me speak with him myself. Perhaps he was too frightened to speak with me directly. I can understand how alarming the existence of my presence might be, especially so newly revealed. Even I had difficulties in understanding the distinction between us when we first met. This is our first meeting now. We must make allowances.”

“If that’s what you think, pharaoh, then I trust you. I’ll be listening closely. Just let me know if you want me to jump in at any point.”

Atem nodded.

Mokuba watched Yugi lean forward and close his eyes. There was a sudden shift in the air, and when Yugi straightened again, he was sitting taller, and there was a change in his eyes. Now that he knew about the pharaoh, it was easy to tell the two of them apart.

“So, you’re the one they call Yami,” Mokuba said, his voice quiet. He swallowed, his throat dry. “Your real name’s Atem, right? And you’re the spirit of an Egyptian pharaoh from long ago. Seto told me all about what happened in the memory world. About you.”

Atem quirked an eyebrow, but he smiled, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed confidently over his chest. “I’m surprised Kaiba would speak of those events, given the skepticism he expressed throughout the ordeal. You may call me Yami or Atem as you choose. I myself am still getting used to my forgotten name.”

Mokuba fidgeted with his mug for lack of something else to do. “So, you really do exist. I thought it was maybe some kind of game or something, like Seto said. But when he stopped accusing Yugi and that Egyptian lady of lying, I started to wonder…”

“Don’t be afraid, Mokuba. I realize this is new for you, but I have known you as long as you have known Yugi, and I think of you as one of my friends as well. You may speak as freely to me as always.”

Mokuba finally dared to look at him eye to eye. The pharaoh’s face was gentle. Slowly, he sipped his hot chocolate, choosing his words carefully. “Is … is Yugi listening?” he asked. He wasn’t sure how all of Atem’s powers worked.

“Yes,” Atem confirmed. “Would you prefer that I ask him to give us some privacy?” He wondered what might be so secret. When Mokuba nodded, Atem turned to Yugi.

Yugi frowned. “If he was asking me in the first place, why is it so important that I not know what the problem is now?”

“Yugi. Mokuba is putting his trust in me,” Atem said. “I wish to respect that trust.”

“Fine, but I want to hear about it once he’s gone. Maybe there’s something I can do to help too. Just let me know when I can come back out.”

“I’ll call for you,” Atem promised. And then Yugi was gone, vanished to his soul room. Atem looked at Mokuba and smiled. “He’s gone. Now please, tell me about this problem of yours.”

Mokuba lifted his locket and pressed it to his chest. “It’s Seto,” he said. “Ever since you visited the memory world, he’s been having these dreams—nightmares. He’s woken up on the floor twice now, all sweaty and pale. Because of them, he’s been staying up later that ever, losing sleep. He almost fell asleep in a meeting the other day. He won’t talk to anyone about it and he won’t ask for help.” Mokuba pointed to the millennium puzzle. “That thing; it’s a millennium item. Like Pegasus’ eye and the lady’s necklace, it has some kind of power. When Yugi wears it, it allows you to connect to him somehow, right? Like a ghost, you control his body or appear in his head. I thought maybe if it worked for Yugi, it could work for Seto too.”

Atem touched the puzzle delicately. What Mokuba said made sense; the puzzle connected him to the wearer, but he had never considered what might happen if another person wore it. His connection to Yugi was not only through the millennium puzzle, but through their very souls. Was it possible to inhabit another vessel?

Mokuba stood up straighter, regaining confidence. “I want to borrow the puzzle—to borrow you, Atem! I want you to enter my brother’s mind or heart or whatever it is you do, and I want you to help him through his nightmares. He can’t fight them alone. I remember the day you broke his heart and released the darkness from inside it. If you can do that, you ought to be able to fight whatever darkness is haunting him now. Even if it doesn’t work, I want to try. I can’t stand to watch him like this. He was never one to rest peacefully, but it’s gotten worse than ever. At the very least, I just want him to sleep again without waking up screaming.”

Atem’s eyes widened. “Screaming?”

He flinched. “I hadn’t mentioned that, had I?” He looked into his mug guiltily. “Nobody else knows about that. I woke up early once and went to check that he’d gone to bed. I peeked through a crack in the door and saw him bolt upright in bed and he screamed.”

If there was one thing Atem knew, it was that above all, Kaiba prided himself on self-control. For something to be pressing on his mind to this extent … it was unnerving. He stood and walked beside Mokuba, offering him his hand. “Very well. I will come with you. And I will do what I can to help.”

“Really!” Mokuba hopped off his chair and threw his arms around Atem, hugging him tight. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” He looked up at Atem, eyes shining. “I’m sure the two of you can work out whatever it is. You’ve saved the world together a zillion times—some nightmares oughta be nothing compared to that!”

 

Yugi arrived at the Kaiba manor promptly after dinner, the millennium puzzle around his neck. Mokuba had sent a car for him. Although he’d been invited—or rather, Atem had—he still looked up at the doors doubtfully and shook his head. “I’m still worried,” he said. “Mokuba came to us and arranged all this before telling Kaiba. Knowing how stubborn he is, he might not even let us in. Even if we got in and I gave him the puzzle, what if he threw it into a wall and smashed it? I don’t feel right leaving you by yourself. At the very least he’d never wear it and he’d leave you sitting on a desk or something.”

Atem laughed, standing at his side. He, too, looked up at the doors, but he smiled confidently. “I’m sure Kaiba will do no such thing. He might be stubborn and a skeptic, but once he believes in something, he believes it wholeheartedly and is just as stubborn in his believing as not. He might leave the puzzle alone, that’s true, but he’ll spend the night talking about how ridiculous it all is before he’d let it sit in silence. I expect him to be quite vocal.”

“If he tries anything, go ahead and possess him and call me. I’ll keep my phone on full volume so I can wake up and come get you. Or I’m sure one of his staff could send the puzzle home in a car if you asked them to as Kaiba.”

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, Yugi.” Though the thought of possessing Seto Kaiba made him chuckle.

The moment before Yugi tried knocking, the door opened inward. Kaiba stood before them, looking disgruntled. Yugi’s eyes went wide, taking him in. His eyes were dark and baggy and he looked pale. He’d never seen Kaiba look so sick. He could see the effort Kaiba made to keep up appearances. His hair was fashionably combed as always and his clothes were clean and pressed, but as Kaiba squinted at him, the frailty about his eyes was only emphasized. But then he noticed Kaiba wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at the puzzle.

With a violent yank, Yugi was pulled forward, the chain of the puzzle taught between them. Kaiba held the puzzle close to his face and glared at it. “What do you want?” he grunted. “I told Mokuba not to send for you. Go _home_ , pharaoh.”

Yugi stood on his tiptoes, straining backward. “That’s not how it works, Kaiba,” he struggled. “He can hear you just fine.” Thankfully, he was able to slide the chain over his head. He stumbled back, catching his breath.

Kaiba looked down at him. “Take your kitschy knick-knack and leave,” he said. “I have work to do.”

“Don’t take it out on Yugi, Seto. I just wanted to help.”

Kaiba turned and looked at his younger brother. Mokuba stood just in the entryway, shuffling in his house slippers. Kaiba held the puzzle up for emphasis and asked, “Just what is _he_ supposed to be doing here? And what did you tell Yugi?”

“I didn’t tell Yugi anything! I only told Atem. He promised to keep it to himself … ”

“He did, Kaiba,” Yugi said. “Yami didn’t tell me what you needed help with; only that Mokuba had asked him to come here. All I know is that I shouldn’t be expecting him back until tomorrow.”

“You can expect him back now. I don’t need his help. Mokuba’s simply overreacting to a small issue. It’s nothing you need concern yourself with.” He tossed the puzzle back into Yugi’s hands.

Yugi put the puzzle back around his neck, looking dejected. Then, there was a sudden wind, and the next moment, Atem stood on the front step, a hand cocked on his hip and a scowl on his face.

“You shouldn’t be rude to your guests, Kaiba,” Atem said, a challenge in his voice.

Kaiba sighed. “Bring Yugi back; he’s easier to get rid of.”

“I’m here to help you Kaiba. I made a promise to Mokuba and I intend to keep my word. And I would hate to have wasted Yugi’s time in having him bring me here. Though you may have denied it in the past, you know me Kaiba, and you know my stubborness is your own match. But I came prepared. If you allow me to help you, I might even consent to a rematch afterwards. What do you say?”

Kaiba glared at Atem. “Have you ever considered I might say no? Duelling isn’t my life.”

Mokuba snickered.

“I’ll wear you down eventually, Kaiba. Or perhaps we can keep Yugi here and I can simply wrestle the door open and plant myself outside your bedroom all night. Wouldn’t it be easier to deal with only myself rather than the two of us? We can take it in shifts to talk your ear off. Yugi has recently introduced me to daytime television and I have many thoughts I could share about various sitcoms. And believe me, he has much more to say than I.”

Kaiba grabbed the puzzle and tugged him forward. “Fine. Take that stupid thing off and follow me.”

Atem pulled the chain over his head. He reached upward to place it over Kaiba’s head, but Kaiba flinched back.

“What are you doing?” Kaiba asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Giving you the puzzle,” Atem said. “If you don’t wear it, you won’t be able to see or hear me.”

“I’m not wearing that thing.”

Atem narrowed his eyes. “You can take it off and carry it if you prefer, but the connection must be established first,” he said. Or at least, that was his hope. Yugi had carried the puzzle in hand at least once, he remembered, and he could still appear while he held it.

“I’m taking it off as soon as it bears its own weight,” Kaiba grumbled.

To Atem’s surprise, Kaiba bent his head down slightly. He smiled and slipped the chain around his neck. Then, Yugi was standing in his place, looking thoroughly shaken. Atem stepped to the side and observed Kaiba. Had it worked? But Kaiba saw him move and his eyes followed. He could see him.

“This thing’s heavy,” he complained, still looking at Atem. “It’s a wonder Yugi’s tiny neck hasn’t snapped by now.” He turned around and walked back inside, waving a hand behind him. “If he gets too annoying, I’ll have you driven back to take him away. If not, I’ll send him in the morning,” he said. “Now leave before the engine gets cold.”

Yugi wavered on the step, watching the doors close. “You better be nice to him, Kaiba, or I’ll have Joey text you for a week straight.”

“Too bad for you; I blocked his number.”

Then the doors were closed and Yugi was left to retreat to the waiting car.

 

Inside, Kaiba yanked the puzzle over his head. He wrapped the chain around his hand and let it dangle at his side. Atem still stood beside him, as promised. Mokuba smiled up at him.

“So did it work? Can you see him?”

“Yeah, he’s here,” Kaiba said, giving Atem an acknowledging nod.

“That’s so cool! It’s like being haunted kind of.”

“Then maybe I’ll drop his puzzle in a ring of salt and banish him for good.”

Atem shook his head, smiling. “I happen to eat french fries a lot. I’m not bothered by salt.”

“So just what am I supposed to do with you?” Kaiba held up the puzzle, inspecting it. He turned it over in his hands. He’d never gotten such a close look at it before. He ran a finger over the cracks between the puzzle pieces, scratching at the gold surface.

Atem twitched, feeling a slight tickle. “Would you stop manhandling it?” he asked.

“It’s nothing more than a vessel for your soul, right? Why? Can you feel this?” He tried poking the eye in front experimentally.

“Why of all places did you poke there? If it worked, were you expecting to poke my eye out?”

“Just curious,” Kaiba said.

Mokuba looked at his brother, satisfied. “Be nice to him for me, okay? I don’t want him to hate me once you’re done with him.”

“Go to bed, Mokuba. You’ve got school.”

“It’s Friday, Seto. You really _do_ need to sleep.” Mokuba padded toward the stairs but he turned and waved. “G’night, Yami! Do your best, okay?”

Atem waved, knowing Mokuba couldn’t see him anyway. “Shall we follow suit, Kaiba?”

“You’d better stay in that puzzle of yours when I go to sleep. I’m not sharing my bed with a crusty 5,000 year old ghost.”

“Afraid I’ll leave ectoplasm on the sheets?”

“No. I just don’t like sharing my things.” He looked at Atem properly, up and down. “Speaking of which, change back. I didn’t say you could copy my look.”

“Look?” Atem lifted his hands. Long black sleeves covered his arms. He tugged at a high collar around his neck. He was wearing Kaiba’s turtleneck. He looked down at his legs and feet. “Whenever Yugi changed, I always ended up in the same clothes as him. I’m not surprised it should happen with you too. For the moment, I suppose you’re technically my vessel, even if I am not a part of you.” Atem turned around and grinned. “You know? I make this look good.”

Kaiba eyed him but he didn’t say anything in retaliation. He just grunted and headed up the stairs. Atem hovered in the air beside him, admiring the house as they went. It was the first time he’d ever been in the Kaiba manor. The place was large and impersonal as he expected, but not quite as imposing as he would have imagined. “This place is nice,” he said.

“It’d be nicer if it wasn’t currently haunted,” Kaiba replied, looking over his shoulder. “So. What did Mokuba tell you I needed help with?”

“You were having nightmares. He said I might be able to get to the source of it.”

Kaiba looked to the side, then back. “Did he mention anything else?” he asked, sounding a little less gruff.

“Not much, really.”

Kaiba studied him a moment, then continued to walk down to hall. “Don’t go poking around my head. Just wake me up if I start tossing and turning. Then we can say you helped and we can drop it.”

“But Kaiba—”

“That’s my deal,” Kaiba said, effectively shutting him down. “I’m not about to let you wander around in my head freely. I like my privacy.”

By that time, they had reached a door at the end of the hall. Kaiba paused, his hand on the lever. He kept his eyes locked on the door. “Hey. Would you wait out here a minute, or are you forced to go wherever I do?”

Atem tilted his head, but he stepped to the side, leaning against the wall. “I can wait,” he said. “Need to clean up your room or something?”

Kaiba looked further away and scoffed, but he didn’t protest.

Atem looked at him. “I won’t judge if it’s messy, though I admit, I always thought you would be a meticulous neat freak as Joey might say.”

“Don’t quote that dog in my house,” Kaiba snapped. “Wait here.” He unceremoniously dumped the millennium puzzle outside the door and slammed it shut.

Even from inside the puzzle, Atem could hear him shuffling around behind the door. The was the scuffle of papers and things indistinguishable. He was surprised. So Kaiba really was cleaning up. His sleepless nights must’ve worn him out and the mess must’ve caught up with him. Yugi had nights like that now and then. Judging from what Mokuba had told him, the mess would be considerable. He had to admit, he was a little flattered that Kaiba cared what he thought.

A minute later, he heard the door open and felt the puzzle rise. When he reappeared outside of the puzzle, the chain was around Kaiba’s neck and he was standing close in front of him. For a fleeting moment, the thought passed that the puzzle looked good on him, but he busied himself inspecting Kaiba’s room the next. It looked neat and tidy as if it had been clean all the while. He was impressed. He noticed there was a cot set up beside the bed.

“What’s that for?” Atem asked, nudging it with his foot.

“For you. I wasn’t sure if you slept in the puzzle or what.”

“Huh.” Atem stepped over it and sat on Kaiba’s bed. If he could feel it, he was sure it would be as soft as it looked.

“Get off that; you’ll wrinkle the sheets.”

“Kaiba. I’m an ancient spirit floating in space. I can’t actually touch the bed, even as I’m sitting on it now. I can effect nothing in the physical realm without first inhabiting a host.”

Kaiba shut his bedroom door and turned to his desk reluctantly. He sat heavily in his chair and sighed. He looked over his shoulder once, then hunched over the paperwork in front of him. In a minute, he was completely focused, Atem forgotten.

Atem sat watching him awhile, propped up on the pillows with his hands behind his head. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, just staring off into space. The only sound he heard was the rustling of papers and, eventually, the clacking of keys on Kaiba’s laptop. So this is what Kaiba did at home. He might as well live in his office. Enough time passed and Atem grew bored. He sat up and floated over Kaiba’s shoulder, reading his papers with minimal interest. He looked at the laptop, trying to decipher the meaning behind some emails written in English.

Kaiba continued working stiffly. Now and then, he glanced at Atem, but he tried to focus on his work. He wasn’t used to people standing—or floating, as the case was—in his personal space. He was acutely aware of the fact that it was just the pharaoh here. Yugi was gone, away at home. Every action was one hundred percent by the will of Atem. He had denied the distinction before, but he knew it very well.

Kaiba felt his mouth grow dry as time went on. He found himself rereading the same email twice, not catching a word of it the first time around. He couldn’t work this way. Twice he thought he felt something soft tickle his ear and saw one of Atem’s ridiculous bits of spiky yellow fringe out of the corner of his eye. He swore he could hear him breathing, breaking the silence. Fed up, he stood, knocking his chair back, and whirled around, grabbing Atem’s wrist. He was only a little surprised when he felt solid contact. Atem cried out in surprise as Kaiba dragged him away from the desk. Kaiba crossed the room and tossed him roughly onto the bed. When Atem attempted to sit up, he pushed him down with a hand on his chest. Kaiba leaned down beside the bed until their faces were level.

“Sit here and be quiet,” he said, his voice low. “You’re distracting me and I have important work to do; I fell asleep earlier and fell behind schedule. I have notices to reply to and events that need ceo approval. I can’t have you constantly breathing down my neck.”

Atem gaped up at him. He hadn’t spoken or done anything; he didn’t even breathe. What was so distracting about standing around? He resumed his previous position, propped up on the pillows. “I’m bored,” he said. He tucked his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles comfortably.

“Tough. I’m busy.” Kaiba returned to his desk and plopped himself down in his chair again.

Atem sighed and resigned himself to staring at the ceiling again. He doubted Kaiba had any intention of sleeping, especially if he’d already passed out that afternoon. Still, it was an interesting change, hanging out casually with Kaiba, no end of the world stakes in the works or insistent challenges to duels. In fact, it was the first time they’d been together where Kaiba had acknowledged him as himself, not Yugi. And, even though he’d said he was a distraction, Kaiba was still wearing the puzzle.

After a bit of thinking and dozing, Atem shifted off the bed. He wandered around the room, exploring. Kaiba had many tall bookshelves against one wall, some of them with glass doors. Though he could not take the books out and look at them, he entertained himself by reading the titles on the spine. Most of them were in either Japanese or English, but there were a number of them in languages he didn’t recognize. He hovered to reach the higher shelves with titles he couldn’t read. On one of the higher shelves, he was surprised to see a book in familiar script. The book had stylized hieroglyphics on the spine. Reading the other titles of the books beside it, he could see they were books about ancient Egypt. Kaiba had been researching for awhile, it would seem. He felt warm at the thought.

He continued looking at the higher shelves. He found a few unusual books: a collection of fairytales, a fictional history of dragons, even a few manga. He grinned to himself. Evidently Kaiba hid the more embarrassing books up high where nobody could see them. Drifting along, he spotted a small book, tucked away on top of one bookcase, hidden between it and the ceiling. It had a title that might easily be some classic hoity English story or, more incriminatingly, a romance. He squinted at it, trying to make out more of the details on the spin as it hid in the shadows. There appeared to be flowers printed on it. The idea that Kaiba secretly read romance novels made him chuckle.

“What are you laughing about?” Kaiba asked, his stark voice cutting through the silence. “Stop poking your nose through my things and get down from there.”

Atem obediently descended, but his rebellious smile remained.

Kaiba looked at him suspiciously. “What do you look so happy about?”

“You’re secretly a sensitive person, aren’t you?”

Kaiba was taken aback. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Intuition,” Atem lied, grinning.

Kaiba narrowed his eyes, looking between Atem and the bookshelf. He picked up the puzzle, holding it purposefully. “If you go looking through my things again, this thing is going in the garbage.”

Atem could have sworn there was a bit of color to his cheeks. Kaiba resumed working, but Atem didn’t go back to the bed. Instead, he sat at Kaiba’s elbow, watching him work again.

Kaiba didn’t bother looking at him. He kept his eyes glued to the computer, typing robotically, even as he asked, “Why don’t you try reading a book or something?”

“I can’t touch things,” Atem replied. “I can sit on a chair or a bed but I can’t move them. I can’t turn a page. Unless you want to turn the pages for me, I don’t see another option. You’d end up being distracted just the same.” Atem looked up at him sincerely. “Does it really bother you when I watch you work?”

Kaiba turned to the bookshelf, avoiding his eyes. He could feel Atem looking at him and his silence was only adding to the strain. “You’ll be bothering me wherever you are,” he mumbled.

“I could go into the puzzle until you finish working,” Atem offered. Now that he had his memories, he realized there was plenty to do in his soul room. He’d just liked exploring Kaiba’s room. He was interesting.

“I’ll be working for awhile,” he said. “You might be holed up there for hours.”

“What’s a few hours to a few thousand years?” Atem joked.

“Listen, i just meant—” but when Kaiba looked, Atem was gone. “Oh,” he said. He felt his heart sink a bit, guiltily. He’d succeeded in running him off. The sudden change left the room feeling much too empty. At least when Mokuba left, he saw and heard him leaving. Atem was just there one moment and gone the next. That particular image sat on the forefront of his mind and reminded him of another night. He shook the thought away and returned to his work, determined to drown himself in it.

Atem opened his eyes in the usual hall. Before him were two doors as always, but with a noticeable difference. To his right, as ever, was his own soul room. It looked less like a crumbling tomb now and more like the proper entrance to a pharaoh’s chambers. However, to the left, where Yugi’s open door always welcomed him, there was a strange new door. It was a solid white door with an ornate silver handle. And it was closed.

Atem placed a hand on the lever, curious. He began to turn it, feeling it give slightly, but he stopped. The door was closed for a reason. Instead, he put his forehead against the door. It was oddly warm. He wanted to see into Kaiba’s heart, to walk through it and know it. It was one of the secret reasons he had agreed to Mokuba’s plan. He wanted to know what it was exactly that Kaiba thought of him, now that he really knew who he was. But he didn’t want to know—not with the truth he knew. He would not be here much longer. He could not embrace the happy truth should it be waiting for him. With all his remaining self control, he released the lever and let his finger trail down its surface. He walked away, heading to his own room. Locked or unlocked, he wouldn’t go invading Kaiba’s privacy any more than he already had.

 

Kaiba jerked upright. Somewhere between organizing the next steps for his duel app release and his meeting schedules, he’d begun to doze. He sat up slowly, feeling his muscles protest his every move. He groaned and unlocked his sleeping computer. Tiredly, he rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was lying. He was far, far ahead of schedule. If he wanted, he could take a day or two off work. But he needed to be distracted. He needed to stay awake. The words were blurry in his vision as he tried to continue typing and his arms felt cold. He tried sitting straighter to wake himself up and felt something heavy pulling on his neck. He looked down and caught the shine of the millennium puzzle. He’d forgotten about him.

Kaiba picked up the heavy puzzle. He held it in front of his eyes. It really was beautiful up close. His breath fogged the polished surface. When he was little, he used to read beautiful, happy things to banish his nightmares. He stared at the puzzle, feeling his heart beat faintly faster. Perhaps this might do the same.

“Atem,” he whispered, remembering the name the pharaoh had shouted to banish the dark powers in the memory world. He often said it to himself to keep from forgetting. It made the events in the memory world feel more real. Made _him_ more real. The relief he’d felt when he learned Atem was someone separate from Yugi was immeasurable. There was a side of Yugi in their duels and adventures that he’d always been drawn to; the part which was Atem. He thought at first that Yugi’s character was simply inconsistent. It was Atem’s confidence and mastery that drew him. To know that that was the true character of another being was incredible; it didn’t simply appear and vanish according to the situation’s need. He brought the puzzle forward, resting it against his lips and closing his eyes. It wasn’t fair that he was always vanishing before they could speak. He wanted to know him, despite his fear of being know.

“Have you finished working?”

Kaiba bolted upright again, holding the puzzle away. He thought he’d had a private moment. He turned to look at Atem, standing beside his chair, and his heart raced like he’d finished a hard jog. “What! I thought you were in your puzzle.”

“I thought I heard you call me,” Atem said, looking at the puzzle in question. “Are you finished now? I was growing tired of sitting alone.”

Kaiba scrubbed viciously at his face, wiping away the edge of sleep. “I was thinking out loud. I still have plenty of work to do.”

Atem looked at him carefully. “Your face is red, especially around the eyes.” He reached out a hand to stop Kaiba rubbing. Gently, he wiped a thumb over his eye, feeling how hot they were. “If you keep working so hard, you’ll make yourself sick.”

Kaiba froze, losing his breath. He felt Atem’s warm hand against his cheek, felt his thumb ghost intimately over his eyelashes. He took a heavy breath, hypnotized. He was so close. Kaiba’s eyes flicked down to Atem’s lips. He felt his breath. Had Atem felt it just now when he held the puzzle? Did he know?

Atem stood. “Turn it off. Put it all away. It’s time you slept.”

Kaiba leaned after Atem’s retreating figure, feeling suddenly very light and cold. Without another word, he saved his files and shut down his computer. He left the papers where they lay. Despite his anxieties, he moved toward the bed and collapsed on his side, the puzzle bouncing next to him. He closed his eyes, sinking into his pillow. He took a deep breath, allowing himself to relax.

“You shouldn’t sleep in your clothes,” Atem said. “You’ll wake up sore.”

Kaiba opened one heavy eye and saw Atem crouching beside the bed. Reluctantly, he sat up again, stripping off his socks and tossing them carelessly across the room. He pulled the puzzle up over his head and rested it in his lap. Then, he started pulling his shirt over his head.

“Now, just a minute! Give me a chance to get in the puzzle.”

Kaiba lowered his shirt again as Atem vanished and he set the puzzle away from him on the other side of the bed. He smirked to the empty room. As he stood, he began to shed his clothes sluggishly, tossing them in the same corner alongside his lonely socks. He crossed to his dresser and opened one of the drawers. He had plenty of pyjamas to choose from, but it was a warm night. A devilish thought crossed his mind. He shut the drawer and returned to bed, shutting off the lights and turning on his bedside lamp. He lay propped up above the covers, crossing a leg over his knee, and pull the planner out of his bedside drawer. He opened it to pencil in the changes to his schedule and slipped the cold chain back over his head, shivering as it touched his bare skin. Atem returned a moment later, standing as he had beside the bed.

“Now we can deal with the business of banishing your nightmares,” he said. He opened his eyes to tell Kaiba to turn off the light and was struck dumb. Kaiba was laying around in his boxers, completely exposed and not at all bothered. He just lay there, scribbling notes.

Kaiba looked up at Atem, feigning disinterest. “In a minute. I’m just finishing up,” he said. He lingered a moment to relish Atem’s shocked expression. “Something wrong?”

Atem opened and closed his mouth before he found his words again. “You’ll catch a cold,” he managed to say.

“I’ll be under the covers when the light goes out.” He was enjoying himself. He caught the flush of red as it began to spread over Atem’s face. It made something flutter in his chest. “Besides, I don’t get cold easy. Why? Are you cold?” He looked Atem up and down pointedly. He spared just enough time to admire the view.

Atem looked down at himself, seeing what Kaiba saw. He panicked and was out of view in a snap. Kaiba heard his voice in his head a moment later. “That was a dirty trick!” Atem shouted.

Kaiba couldn’t hold in his laughter. He let it out until he began to feel tired again, worn from the burst of excitement. He turned over to put the planner away and shut out the light. He stretched and relaxed, shoving his legs under the covers and settling in. He closed his eyes and adjusted. He gasped suddenly, feeling something ice cold touch his lower core. He reached down and pulled out the millennium puzzle. “Is this thing going to choke me in my sleep?”

“No, but _I_ might,” Atem threatened.

“It’s hard to give you any kind of withering look when you hide away in there,” Kaiba said, holding the puzzle close to his face and staring into the eye.

“I’m not coming out. At least in here I can wear what I like.”

Kaiba was curious now. “What are you wearing?”

No voice came into his head for a full minute, then, quietly, “You sound like you’re initiating phone sex.”

“That’d be puzzle sex, wouldn’t it?” Kaiba chuckled. “But I don’t imagine you hid in the puzzle to dress in something more risqué.”

“You’re much too comfortable making those kinds of jokes.”

“Well I’m finally beginning to relax. I happen to be very funny, I’ll have you know. And you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“My old clothes. You saw them in the memory world. I found a trunk of them in my soul room once I regained my memory.”

Kaiba closed his eyes, remembering. His regal regalia honestly suited him. “I forget. Let me see.”

“You’d have to come in here,” Atem replied.

“To this _soul room_ thing? And how do I do that? Astral project?”

“Something like that. I must admit, I’m not entirely sure how it works. It’s like looking inside of yourself, finding your center.”

Kaiba rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The comfortable darkness fell over him, covering him. “I’ve never been much good at that,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t make a habit of looking in.” He sunk deeper into the bed.

He felt something like a warm hand on his heart. Then he heard Atem speaking softly. “Maybe that’s what we’re meant to do tonight to get rid of these nightmare of yours. You can’t run from the things you fear and let them fester inside of you unchecked. You can ask me for help, Kaiba.”

As Atem’s words washed over him, he felt as if he was sinking deeper. Perhaps he was finally falling asleep. “You know I never ask,” he mumbled, feeling light.

Atem’s voice drifted to him, coming closer. “Then you don’t have to. Just accept it.”

Kaiba opened his eyes.

He was standing in a narrow corridor. Ahead to his right, an open door with walls of sandstone brick, carved with delicate hieroglyphs. To his left, a plain white door. But he paid it no mind. Instead, his attention was focused on the figure standing before it. An elegant man with golden brown skin, dressed in gold and white, a purple cloak draped over his shoulders, stood with his forehead pressed to the door, a hand flat against its surface. When Atem dropped his hand away, Kaiba felt the warm hand leave his heart. His heart gave a leap and he saw the handle of the door jiggle.

“Hey.”

Atem looked up, startled. “Kaiba?” His eyes were wide open, gaping.

Kaiba came to stand in front of the door. He looked at it, taking in the subtle details. There was a fogged etching in it like stained glass: lines like a puzzle, rounded like a sphere or a map. As he looked, bits shone the faintest gold.

“This is my soul room, isn’t it?” he said. “My heart.”

Atem nodded.

Kaiba turned to look at him. “Have you been in it?”

“No. I haven’t even turned the handle.”

Kaiba placed a hand on the handle for himself. How fitting; it resembled the Blue Eyes White Dragon. Beneath it was a keyhole like a scepter or a rod. The millennium rod came to mind. It had been his in another life, he supposed. Looking down at the door, he noticed his sleeve. He looked at himself. He’d come, fully dressed in the same clothes he so recently stripped himself of. That suited him fine; he wasn’t about to go wandering into his own heart in his boxers. He’d be laid bare enough inside.

He tried the handle and heard a distinct click. He swallowed dryly. “I’m half-sure I’m dreaming now—or I’m sure I’m half-dreaming,” he said. He turned to look Atem in the eye. “This is what you came for. Whatever you see, do you promise to keep it to yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Even from Yugi?”

“Even from Mokuba. It stays between us, Kaiba.”

“Whatever happens?” he pressed.

“I would never betray the contents of your heart,” Atem assured.

Kaiba took a deep breath. Much would become clear the moment they stepped inside—things he’d tried to keep hidden. “Then hold tight to me,” he said, taking Atem’s hand, holding it fast. Kaiba flung the door open and they were instantly engulfed in a brilliant flash of white. Blinded, he pulled Atem forward into the unknown.

 

When the light faded, Atem stood alone. He had seen something black swallow up the light and felt Kaiba pull away. He had tried to hold on with all his might, but something had torn Kaiba away with a ghastly screech. He looked at his empty hand now, scratched and red. If the thing hadn’t interfered, he would have held on in and back again.

“That thing must’ve been the nightmare,” he said aloud. Nothing answered in the empty greyness. Somewhere beyond the void where he stood, deeper in Kaiba’s heart, he would find the nightmare. And Kaiba. He would not allow him to be consumed by fear and darkness in a place so dangerous and tangible as the soul room. Terrible things manifested here and were given life. He would not lose Kaiba to the darkest corners of his heart.

Atem began running with resolve in one direction, sure that whatever path he chose would eventually lead him to the center. It was how he had once navigated the labyrinth of his own soul room. The grey fog began to take shape. The whispering in the air became voices. All at once, as if it had come to meet him, a gate stood before him, tall, iron fast, and imposing. Though the gate was shut tight, he could see through it into the yard of a large house. There were children playing, rushing this way and that, laughing, but one child was sitting against the gate pillars, minding himself in its shadow. His face was tucked away in his arms. His shoulders were shaking.

Kaiba wiped his watery eyes clean, looking out over the yard of other orphans. He watched a brother and sister building in the sandbox. He sniffed, turning away. Atem reached out to him through the bars of the gate, wishing to comfort him. That was when he heard a pair of adults whispering from across the yard, their voices as clear as if they were standing by his side.

“It’s hard not to pity him,” one caretaker whispered. “His mother died birthing his brother years ago. His family had just begun to take comfort again when the accident occurred.”

The other caretaker nodded. “To lose his mother so young, then for fate to turn and take away his father and brother together … he’s a boy well acquainted with loss.”

Atem bristled and looked at Kaiba. This was the first nightmare then! Kaiba’s greatest fear: losing Mokuba. He could not imagine Kaiba growing up alone. It was his determination to keep Mokuba safe that kept him going for so long.

“It’s such a shame. A smart boy like him would fit well in any home.”

“If he smiled once in awhile, someone might consider adopting him.”

The first caretaker nodded solemnly. “It’s hard to love such a sour disposition. And in a child! It’s impossible.”

He saw Kaiba flinch, gripping his knees tighter.

“It’s criminal what his relatives did to the poor boy. They never wanted him; only his inheritance.”

“I cannot forgive negligence, but I would find it hard to want a boy who wanted nothing to do with me. There comes a point when responsibility becomes a spider’s web excuse.”

Kaiba buried his head again, tucking deeper against the pillar.

Atem reach through the bars, but the scene pulled away. “It isn’t true, Kaiba!” he called. “You’re wanted! You have always been wanted! Mokuba is alive, and he wants you more than he will ever need you!”

He saw the little boy raise his head. Those shining blue eyes stared deep into him, unrecognizing.

“He wants you!” Atem shouted. “And he’s not alone! You’ll never be alone either, Kaiba. If you only ask, then I—!” The orphanage disappeared, leaving Atem in a darker grey mist, kneeling at the foot of an empty path. “ … I will stay … ” he concluded. He felt something wet fall on the back of his hand. He was crying.

This was only the first nightmare—the one closest to the edge of his heart. Already it had brought Atem to tears. He shuddered, looking at the disappearing path. What pain awaited further in? What would cause Kaiba to cry out in the night? He stood and ran down the path. He would not dawdle or stall. Kaiba was somewhere waiting for him, in the darkest depths. He was waiting alone.

The second nightmare was one Atem had seen personally in the virtual world. The face of Gozaburo Kaiba towered above. The sound of doors clicking open echoed around him, making him jump. He heard the whistle of a switch cutting the air and he turned this way and that to defend himself from the source. Then the room appeared. Kaiba sat upon a throne of textbooks, furiously turning page after page as books piled up around him. There were red marks on his legs, his arms, and his hands. He wore a collar around his neck.

“You must learn quickly and under pressure if you are ever to handle the stress of inheriting my company, boy,” Gozaburo taunted. He smacked the switch against his palm.

Atem saw Kaiba flinch and begin to read even faster.

“Not enough! Not good enough!” Gozaburo shouted. He smacked the switch twice more in succession. “Mediocrity is failure. Failure is death. Every broken gear is replaced. You will not dishonor the name of Kaiba by failing!” He raised the switch. As it rose higher, it became a whip.

Atem would watch no more. He rushed in between Kaiba and Gozaburo. As the whip descended, it coiled around Atem’s arm, burning red. Atem tore it away from Gozaburo’s grip, hissing in pain. “From the day you met him, you should have realized he was anything but mediocre.” He looked back at Kaiba whose book was now dangling limply in his hands. The boy was gaping up at him in shock as if he’d never been defended before. Atem uncoiled the whip from his arm and reached for him. He took the book, giving Kaiba his hands. “You’re an exceptional person, Kaiba. You always were, even before all the great deeds you accomplished. You have worth. You are, and you have always been enough. I promise you—always. Don’t be afraid to fail. And don’t be afraid to ask for help. You can ask for things you need. You can ask for things you want. Gozaburo is gone and he will never hurt you again. Trust me. And rely on me.”

Kaiba leaned forward and threw his small arms around Atem’s neck, sobbing hoarsely. Atem held him tenderly, hoping what little comfort he could give might reach Kaiba wherever he was now. The scene came and went faster that the last. Dissolved by Atem’s interference. He stood on a darker path now. He turned to watch Kaiba reach up and unbuckle the collar from his neck. As soon as it fell to the floor, the scene was gone. The last thing Atem saw was Kaiba’s fragile smile.

 

The third nightmare was unexpected. Surrounding him in the darkness were a great many screens giving off the only light. Some displayed only noise. Others were completely black, large cracks running through the glass. Beneath his feet was glass and rubble and the petals of thousands of shriveled white lilies. As Atem walked carefully through the screens, he felt many pairs of eyes on him, watching him, but he could find no source for the fear that lifted the hairs on the back of his neck.

A distorted voice shifted in and out of the room, crackling, echoing. “Seto,” it said. The voice was young and hollow. A blur of green and white evaded him as he turned to look. It always sat just in the corner of his eye. Somewhere, another flash appeared on a distant screen, too far to see. Atem hurried towards it. All around him the noise on the screens began to clear away. The cracks grew larger. An image appeared on every screen, identical and unmistakable.

Noah stared blankly out of each screen. “Seto,” a thousand voices called. “You left me behind, Seto. You let me be destroyed.”

As noise flashed across the screen, the light fell across a lone figure. Atem stopped. “Kaiba!”

It was Kaiba as he knew him. He was standing in front of one of the screens, his arms full of dying lilies. He shook his head, clutching his locket to his chest. In the distance, a beeping sounded, mocking him. He opened his eyes, the lilies fell to the floor, and he darted toward the source of the sound. “Deactivate program!” he shouted. “Disable fuse! Shut down! Shut down! Shut down!”

Atem chased after him, following. Was this the real Kaiba or another persona? A control board appeared in a clearing amongst the screens. Mokuba’s locket was already in place. Kaiba tore the locket from around his neck and tried to insert it into the other slot. He scrambled, desperate to find it. It had disappeared. He tried disabling the explosion by removing Mokuba’s locket, but there was no use. The countdown projected red light down over him. He stared in horror at the flashing screen.

Atem caught his arm, shaking him from his stupor. “Kaiba! Listen to me!” he said. Kaiba looked down at him, visibly frightened. “Kaiba. You are not responsible for Noah’s death. He was already dead before he was put in Gozaburo’s program.”

“He was alive!” Kaiba argued, pushing away. He fumbled with the control board, desperately trying to undo the program he’d created to detonate the island’s explosives. “He deserved a chance to live a life free of that demon. He was no different from me! I can’t kill him! I can’t let him die!”

“Kaiba, stop!” Atem tried to pull Kaiba away, but Kaiba snatched himself free of his grip. Atem didn’t know how to make the nightmare disappear. It grew darker and louder, the red lights flashing menacingly around them. The static from the broken screens was deafening.

“It won’t stop! Nothing I do can stop it!” Kaiba slammed his hands against the control board, causing sparks to fly. He sank to the ground as Noah’s pleading voice grew louder around them, the alarm screaming in the air. Kaiba covered his ears, his eyes shut tight against the remaining light. He pushed himself tight against the side of the control board, trying to will everything away.

Glass shattered and screens popped around them, sending sparks flying as everything began to break apart. Atem crouched over Kaiba, covering him protectively with his cloak. The countdown loomed above him, challenging him to find a solution before the end. Atem held Kaiba close in his arms and rocked him, tucking his head beneath his chin. “There was nothing you could do,” he said. “Gozaburo would have destroyed the world if you stopped the explosion. It was the only thing that could be done and Noah accepted that. He was willing to sacrifice himself to save his family. He’s very much like you. You’ve sacrificed so much. You take on every burden for the sake of your family.”

He stroked Kaiba’s hair, allowing Kaiba to cling to him. “Let me share the burden,” he said. He was afraid to speak his heart, but Kaiba’s was bleeding out before him in vivid scenes, one by one. “Lean on me, Kaiba. As long as I’m here, I promise to be here for you. Mourn as long as you need to, but don’t give yourself needless blame.”

Kaiba uncurled from his grasp as the sirens began to fade. His face was raw with unguarded emotion. He held Atem’s forearms in his grasp, but even that began to fade. “Yami?” he asked, suddenly seeing him.

“Yes, it’s me,” Atem said.

“Why are you here? Just a moment—I thought Yugi … Why is it always you?”

“What?”

As Kaiba began to fade, he gripped Atem’s arms with a final grasp. “You said you’d be here but you always disappear! I can’t trust you to stay! Not as an acquaintance, not as a friend! No matter who or what you are, you’ll just disappear again! You’ll always go back to Yugi. You’ll just be Yugi again.”

“No, Kaiba! I’m still here!” Atem protested, reaching out, but the screen behind him gave a final burst and he was swallowed by the red light.

 

When he opened his eyes, Atem was in an inky black void. He pulled his cloak tight around his body, shivering. He wasn’t Yugi. He was separate. And yet, he wasn't whole. He couldn’t exist alone and he couldn’t compromise Yugi’s time with his own selfish desires. He couldn’t ask Kaiba to love him. Even if he could, there was no time for them.

Far away, he heard a weak voice mumbling.

He whirled around, listening for it. The voice was tired, broken. It was familiar. With tears streaming down his face, Atem stumbled forward. He began to run through the darkness, toward Kaiba. This nightmare was much more than just his own.

“Kaiba!” Atem called. “Kaiba, answer me, please!” He stumbled again and fell. For a moment, he let himself lay upon the ground, heaving with heavy sobs.

“Go away,” Kaiba said. “You’ll be going again soon anyway.”

Atem lifted himself upright. He was close! Atem struggled to his feet again and edged toward the voice. Was this the real Kaiba at last? When he found Kaiba, he was wearing a black turtleneck, just as he’d been wearing when they were torn away. It might be another nightmare figment; the last Kaiba had looked much the same. Even so, Atem fell at his side and pulled him close. He was tired of losing him in the dark.

“I’m not leaving,” Atem said, gripping him tightly. “I’m not disappearing either. I’m staying until the last nightmare is gone.”

“Then I’ll keep having nightmares,” Kaiba proclaimed. “You always disappear the moment the trouble’s over. I’m tired.”

Atem was startled by his tone.  “What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kaiba said. He shrugged out of his arms. “I can’t say it. And I can’t ask. You know I can never ask.” He angled his head to one side, looking sadly at Atem. “I’m afraid I’ll have to keep one nightmare. I can live with this one—no bolting out of bed.”

Atem looked around the darkness. “I don’t understand this one. Are you afraid of being alone?”

Kaiba chuffed. “Something like that,” he replied. “Sit with me.”

Atem positioned himself closer, studying Kaiba closely. He was acting strange.

“The door wasn’t locked, but it was heavy,” Kaiba said. “I doubt I could have opened it alone. The nightmare did most of the work, sucking us in.” He reached out and picked up Atem’s arm. “I’m sorry about all of this. How are your scratches? And the whiplash?”

“I’ll be fine. My spirit will not scar from it and there was no body to harm.”

He sighed. “Of all people, time and again you come through when I need you. Your strength has always given me hope—many kinds of hope.” He stroked Atem’s hand gently. “I wish I was as confident as you. You’re never afraid to speak your mind. I know your intention in nearly every situation. I find that quality admirable.” He looked into the dark void where Atem had emerged. “You had to go through my heart to learn anything about me. I couldn’t simply say what I wanted to. Even if we had time outside of tonight, I wouldn’t be able to speak honestly.”

“What do you have to say?” Atem asked. “If this is the final nightmare, we can finish this. I promised I would stay until we saw this through.”

“Then I won’t see it through!” Kaiba shouted. “I won’t see you leave!”

Atem leaned back, startled.

“I’m tired of watching you leave. I’d rather close my eyes and let this nightmare continue until I wake up. If I keep this nightmare, at least I’ll keep a part of you!”

Atem’s eyes grew wide. He reached up and placed a hand against the millennium puzzle. He felt a gentle pulse emanating from it like a heartbeat. He held it tight and it seemed to give off a faint light. He stood.

“What are you doing?”

Atem ignored him, letting his feet guide him away.

“Where are you going!”

“To find you,” Atem said. “The real you. He’s waiting for me.”

“No!” Kaiba called, fading as the shadows closed around him. “Don’t leave! Stop leaving me behind! Always when it’s over—always you end up leaving!” The darkness swallowed the last nightmare as Atem kept moving forward, following the faint glow of the millennium puzzle.

 

The moment Atem set foot in the blackest place, he entered a room filled with flickering firelight, an ancient torch passing the corner of his eye. The room reached only as far as the light from the torches that lead up a path of columns to a platform. Standing on opposing sides, two nearly identical figures separated by a field of life-like holograms depicting monsters engaged in battle. Before the platform, a kneeling figure, more intimately real, his hands clamped over his ears, his head buried low against his own chest.

Dust settled around the ceremonial duel and Atem watched as the nightmare reached its climactic moment. He watched himself lose this duel against Yugi. The true duel had been a tie. He’d been granted a year’s clemency, to return again in that time to perform the ceremony to prove his worth and readiness. It was right that, eventually, Yugi should win the duel. That was the final act to put an end to this ordeal. This year was his to cherish meanwhile, even as he knew. But it was only a year. And the year would be over soon. That knowledge had kept him from opening the door.

Atem stepped forward slowly, trying to keep his footsteps silent as he watched the scene unravel. He lost the duel. He watched himself turn, the great stone doors opening behind the sarcophagus. He watched himself leave into that white void, becoming the Egyptian king. He watched Kaiba close his eyes against it. The man was shaking.

“At least look back,” he heard the faint voice whimpering. “For all the times I have to watch, you could at least look back in one of them.”

This was a nightmare identical to the last and, though Atem himself did not understand the depth of change, a part of him knew that this was the worse version. He wondered if he was even meant to find this one. For there was Kaiba, the puzzle around his neck—the real Kaiba at last. It was Kaiba’s white knuckled grip he saw holding the puzzle chain tight to his chest. It was Kaiba’s tears which stained the dusty tomb floor.

“Kaiba?”

He saw Kaiba stiffen, his head raised. In a flash, Kaiba was on his feet, having whirled himself round to face him. His face was flushed red from wiping. His eyes full of panic. Then, the truth dawned on him and his eyes grew wider with such an honest expression, as if his heart had broken from his overwhelming incredulity.

“Atem?” he whispered.

It was the first time Atem had unmistakably heard Kaiba call him by name. Atem ran down the columned path, leapt, and threw his arms around his shoulders. “I finally found you,” he said.

Kaiba’s arms were around him in an instant, hugging him close. He had not truly believed in Atem until then. Then, he was squeezing Atem tightly. “I didn’t think I would see you again,” he said. “You came for me?” There was no hiding the surprise in his voice.

It broke Atem to hear it; to see the truth of Kaiba’s nightmare in action. This was something he feared with the most concrete of beliefs. “What else was I supposed to do? I promised I would help you through your nightmares. You certainly have more than your fair share.”

“What did you see?” Kaiba asked. His voice was still shaking, though he tried to keep himself composed.

“The orphanage. Gozaburo. And Noah.”

Kaiba clutched the puzzle. “And?”

“And you,” Atem added. “You were in every nightmare. In the last one, I thought I’d found you, but you were another illusion. You were afraid I was going to leave and you begged me not to go when I tried searching for the real you.”

Kaiba flinched. “Did I say why?” he asked.

“No. I’m not even sure I banished the nightmare.”

Kaiba nodded, pulling away. “I had a few nightmares of my own while I waited,” he said. He wiped his eyes with the hem of his sleeve. “You sure took your time.”

“I would’ve stayed with you. I’m sorry I lost my grip.”

“I’m sorry I scratched you,” Kaiba said.

Atem looked away, allowing Kaiba to recompose himself in peace. He looked up at the empty platform. The gate was closed and Yugi was gone as well, the nightmare over. Or at least he’d no longer been needed. Atem waited for the scene to fade, for them to appear once more at the door to Kaiba’s soul room, or perhaps for the true nature of Kaiba’s heart to appear without the nightmare’s cloud. But nothing changed. When Atem turned to ask Kaiba what they ought to do next, Kaiba was staring down at him, looking determined.

“Was that the last nightmare?” Atem asked, wondering why Kaiba looked so rigid. Was he preparing himself for another?

“No,” Kaiba said. “You caught up to me before the last one. But this one was enough; I don’t want you seeing the next. I’d rather just play it out for myself to find out how it really goes.” He stepped forward slowly, his eyes on Atem. “Remember your promise?” he asked.

“I would never betray the contents of your heart,” Atem repeated. He remembered.

“But could you accept them?”

Atem blinked.

Kaiba stood resolutely in front of him, inches separating the two of them. “I admire you,” he confessed. “I can’t ever seem to say what I mean around you and that’s as much as I can manage. Did you understand what you saw just now? Can you find the significance?”

“I lost the duel. And I left,” Atem said, robotically.

“No. Why was it important? You saw me just now. Connect it to me.”

Atem hesitated as Kaiba leaned closer. He knew. He hoped. “You could never have your rematch,” he lied.

Kaiba glared and moved forward again, Atem now stepping back until his back pressed up against one of the pillars. _“Atem.”_ Kaiba’s voice was low and full of warning. “I don’t care about the next answer, but if you don’t answer _this_ question honestly, I’ll never forgive you. Do you understand me?”

Atem swallowed and nodded.

“Tell me.”

“It’s me,” Atem said. “But I can’t be the one to say it.”

“I want you to _stay_. Even if you go,” Kaiba said. “Even if you can’t; I want you to want to stay. And I don’t mean with Yugi and the others. With me.” Kaiba leaned in until he was breathing the same breath. “I let you into my heart long before tonight. This is where I keep you. I’ve even kept the nightmares of you. I’ve confessed every night for weeks now and your answer always wakes me. I want your real answer now, from the real you. I’ve given you my heart. Will you have it?”

Atem took a deep breath, having neglected breathing some time ago. Kaiba’s hands reached up and trapped him on either side of his waist, palms flat against the large pillar behind him. He refused to blink or look away as he waited for the answer. Atem began counting days. How many until the year was over? As the numbers added, he lost count, staring into those open blue eyes. He tried counting again, tried to remember, knowing no answer would give them satisfaction. Frustrated tears rolled down his cheeks. He began to sob.

“Ate—!” But Kaiba was cut off as Atem leaned up to kiss him. All at once Atem’s arms were around his neck, pulling him closer. Kaiba swept Atem into his arms and closed his eyes. He kissed him passionately, relief making his legs tingle and grow weak. He leaned his weight against Atem and the pillar, finding balance. He slipped one hand up Atem’s side and to his face. He cupped it delicately and ran his thumb over a wet tear. Then he was kissing his face wherever he could reach, desperate to confirm that this was real. He felt Atem’s warmth wherever his lips touched. It was.

“Why are you crying?” Kaiba asked.

“The year’s almost over. If Yugi wins … ”

“I’ll lend you my deck. I’ll have the tomb destroyed. I’ll run through the gate with you. If I have to find a way to transcend the boundaries of time and space, I’ll do it. Whatever it takes to find you.”

Atem gave a broken laugh and buried his face in Kaiba’s shoulder. “I’m sure you would. You always have your way.” He opened his eyes and saw the room becoming brighter. The room was becoming hard to distinguish. He cried out as the pillar disappeared behind him and again as he and Kaiba fell backwards. Kaiba landed painfully on top of him and they both groaned. The nightmare was vanishing, and the scene with it.

Kaiba looked up and was greeted by the soul room door. He looked around at his own room now, curious. For the moment, the room was empty and white. He supposed that was because the task was done. It might be different the next time they came. He heard Atem complaining beneath him about being crushed, but he refused to move as long as he was in his arms. He chuckled and hugged Atem close, nuzzling against his cheek.

“Kaiba, you’re crushing me!” Atem protested.

“Then die,” Kaiba replied, tickling Atem with his hair.

“I’m already dead.”

“Then suffer in silence, you corpse.”

When Atem tried to complain, Kaiba silenced him with another kiss. It was an awkward kiss since he was smiling too hard to make much of it and they laughed. Kaiba mercifully raised himself, his hands and knees on either side of Atem, bearing his weight. For the first time, Atem could see the tender expression in his eyes. The fear from before was gone.

“Don’t lose to anyone else,” Kaiba commanded. He kissed Atem’s forehead, resting against it.

Atem smiled and wrapped his arms around Kaiba’s waist. “Not if it means losing you.”

“You wouldn’t, but I need time to get started on that space-time boundary thing. And I don’t plan to miss you while it’s being made. I can only imagine what nightmares would come from that.”

“Knowing you, it wouldn’t take more than a month or two. That’s usually about the time you start popping up wherever I am. You’re too impatient to wait any longer than that, aren’t you, Kaiba?”

“No more of that. I’ve waited long enough for you to call me Seto.”

Atem cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Really? How long?”

“Long enough.”

“Tell me! Or I’ll keep calling you Kaiba.”

Kaiba sat up and pulled himself away, crossing his arms as he stared defiantly down at Atem. “I’m finally calling you Atem instead of pharaoh; the least you could do is reciprocate. Don’t try to bargain with me.”

“But it’s so much fun. We never get to hang out like this; I barely have any time to tease you. And that expression is priceless.”

“Call me Seto or I’ll just continue sitting on your legs until they’re numb,” Kaiba threatened.

“Come on! Was it since Battle City? What about when we were chasing down Dartz—was it then? It really sunk in for me in the memory world.”

“The memory world!” Kaiba repeated, the outrage clear in his voice. “That’s how long it took to love me?”

“Oh I loved you long before then, Seto. It just took awhile to admit it.”

“That’s more like it,” Kaiba said. He smiled and leaned down again. “Then I’ll tell you. Since I finished reconstructing my heart. I think you left a little piece of you in it. Cheater.”

Atem rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t suppress a smile. “For a second there, I forgot how cheesy and dramatic you were. I almost thought you were cool.”

“You haven’t seen cheesy and dramatic. Test me and you’ll soon see the full extent of my romantic favor. I’ll drown that old game shop in floral arrangements and hire planes to follow you, flying banners behind them.”

“What a threat. I’m so scared.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

Kaiba laughed. “I wonder if you can sustain bruises you get in the puzzle.”

Atem winked. “Only one way to find out.”

“Yugi will kill me if he sees a single mark. He made me promise to be nice to you.”

“You’re about to be _very_ nice to me, I’m sure. And I think it might take more than one night for your nightmares to go away, don’t you? Whatever mark you make would be gone by then.”

“If I don’t make any more, but I don’t plan on being _that_ nice.”

“No loss. You never really were all that nice to me before.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I said I wouldn't write anything else until King's Detail was over, but I lied. I had to do this one. Blame marshmallons. Also, read her stuff:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmallons/pseuds/marshmallons
> 
> If you like my stuff, check out my tumblr. Here's a shameless self promotion:
> 
> https://dorkmagicianem.tumblr.com/about
> 
> Pour me a cup of coffee while I daydream of coffee shop aus. Might lead somewhere lol


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